САНКТ-ПЕТЕРБУРГСКИЙ ГОСУДАРСТВЕННЫЙ УНИВЕРСИТЕТ 2 страница

C onnor stalked into Malone’s with the beginnings of a headache already wracking his brain. His flight from L.A. had been delayed. He’d spent six hours in Dallas, and just when he was ready to say fuck it and hire a damn car and drive the five hours to Houston, his flight had boarded. Then, when he’d landed, he had six voice mails, three of them from Pop and another three from Micah, who’d delighted in giving him hell about his meeting with the pop diva. Asshole. “Hey, you’re back,” Faith called from her office as he passed. His frown eased into a smile, and he backed up to Faith’s doorway. “Yeah, I’m back. Finally. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” “Heard it didn’t go too well,” she said, her green eyes bright with sympathy. He gave up the idea of sneaking to his office to blow off some steam and sauntered into Faith’s office, where he slouched in a seat in front of her desk. “Let me guess. Micah has been regaling you with tales of my torture.” Mirth glistened in her eyes as she tried to stifle her laughter. “Well, uhm, yes. I’m afraid he has.” “Jackass,” Connor muttered. “Was it that bad?” Connor sighed. He loved his sister dearly, and he had no intention of bitching at her for the better part of an hour. So he ignored the question. “Where’s Gray and Nathan?” She accepted the change in subject with her usual good nature, but her eyes gleamed speculatively as if to say she’d get the dirt later. Yeah, she was sweet, but she could also be downright evil. “They’re out on a job. Pop should be in shortly, and, to be honest, I have no idea where Micah is.” “Damn.” “Avoiding Pop?” she asked, her lips quivering with another smile. “It’s pointless. The old coot would just show up at my apartment.” Faith did laugh then. “Yes, he would. He’s been muttering under his breath about insubordination and hardheaded employees ever since the record execs called to tell him you’d walked.” Connor rolled his eyes. “If he wants the job so damn bad, he can send Micah. He’d totally dig the chick.” “And you don’t.” “She’s... she’s... I don’t have words.” “Wow, Connor Malone speechless. And over a woman. Never thought I’d see it.” He glared at her. “It’s not what you think. She’s...” He couldn’t even finish. Faith burst into laughter, her long blond hair shaking over her shoulders. She reached up to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes and kept on laughing. He rolled his eyes heavenward and wondered if asking for a sudden lightning bolt would be asking for too much. “There you are.” Connor flinched when Pop’s raspy voice filled the room. “Here I am,” he muttered, not turning around in his chair. Pop ambled up and smiled at Faith. “Your husband said to tell you that he’s going to be running late and for you not to wait on him.” Her cheeks pinkened, and a soft smile spread over her features. “Guess I’ll head out, then.” Traitor, Connor mouthed at her. She winked, then collected her purse and headed for the door. Pop turned his hard stare on Connor. “Now. You.” Connor held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Pop.” Pop grunted. “Well, you’re going to hear it.” He leaned against Faith’s desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t care what happened in L.A. This job is a personal favor to a friend. I told him we’d do it, and I can’t spare one of the others to do it. You’re it.” Connor set his teeth together. “Just because they all had the poor sense to get all fucked-up over a woman and think they need to all be married does not mean that I get every shitty job that crosses your desk now.” Pop snorted. “No sense getting your panties in a wad. You’re acting as bad as that pop star you don’t want to babysit.” Connor scowled but Pop held up his hand. “I’m asking as a favor.” Connor groaned. “She’s flying in this Friday. You’re meeting her for dinner Friday night and then she’s coming in to the office on Saturday for a meeting with you and me.” “Why am I meeting her for dinner?” Connor demanded. “Because the two of you are obviously off on the wrong foot, and you need to kiss and make up if we have a hope of making this work.” “Goddamn it, Pop. You go out to dinner with her. I’ll make the Saturday meeting, but I have no desire to spend five minutes with her alone, much less an entire dinner.” Pop stared at him for a long moment. “Are you refusing the job?” Connor swore long and hard. “No, I’m damn well not turning down the job. You’ve made it personal by asking a favor and you know damn well I’m not going to tell you no. But I don’t have to like it.” Pop grinned. Cagey old bastard. “Phillip Armstrong will be e-mailing all the pertinent information as well as what they want from us as far as security. Tomorrow afternoon I want you to sit in on the conference call that he and Barry Kennedy will be heading up. Then you and I will hash out a game plan so that when she arrives on Friday, you two can discuss what will be done during her time in Houston. I left a detailed file on her on your desk. It will give you a very good idea of what this job will entail.” “Fine,” Connor muttered. Pop straightened and started for the door. Grudgingly, Connor stood and turned around to follow. Pop paused in the doorway and faced Connor. The old coot was working to keep a straight face. “Think of it this way. You’ve been bitching about wanting to take vacation for a long time now. Now you get two whole weeks.” “Fuck you,” Connor growled.
Connor sat at the bar in Cattleman’s, sipping a cold beer as he waited for Lyric Jones to make an appearance. He checked his watch again, irritated that she was fifteen minutes late. Pop was disgruntled that he hadn’t picked a classier spot, but then, from what he’d seen, Lyric wasn’t the epitome of class, and if he was going to be forced to endure this meeting, then she could damn well come to him on his turf. He’d spent the better part of yesterday reading the notes that Pop had compiled. Micah had even made an appearance, only too happy to shove the latest tabloid under Connor’s nose with a smug, shit-eating grin. How one woman could cause so much trouble and garner so much press was beyond him. His trip to the grocery store to get a steak and a six-pack of beer had been soured when he noticed that every single magazine at the checkout had some tale of her latest antics or publicity stunt plastered over the covers. It would seem that nothing the woman did was shielded from the world, and worse, she seemed perfectly okay with that. He downed the last of his brew and shoved the empty bottle across the bar. As he glanced sideways, he saw her come in. To his surprise, she wasn’t accompanied by her bodyguards. Not very smart. She was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a regular white T-shirt. There wasn’t a hint of pink in her hair and not a spot of makeup dotted her face. She looked remarkably clean-cut and wholesome. Good grief. Her fingers were shoved into her jeans pockets, and she looked around warily. Unease billowed off her body in a cloud. She looked uncertain, and again he was struck by the odd vulnerability he had glimpsed during her last number at the concert. Clearly he was losing his mind. Finally her gaze locked on to his and he lifted his hand in greeting. Her eyes glazed over, and it was as if she locked the attitude in place. The cockiness was back in spades. She twisted her lips and sauntered over, throwing her bag over the bar stool as she slid up to the bar beside him. “Nice place,” she drawled. “I think so.” He held up a finger and motioned to the barkeep. “Drink?” he asked her when the bartender walked over. “Just water.” “Beer and a water,” Connor ordered. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the scarred wood of the bar. As she wiggled her body to move closer so she could lean, he caught a whiff of her perfume. To his surprise it smelled soft, nice even. He would have expected something strong and overpowering. Like her. “So,” she said as she made a V with her fingers and pressed them to her lips. “Here we are.” Connor nodded. She sighed and turned sideways to look at him. “Look, let’s at least be honest. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. Neither of us wants to be here and you don’t want to babysit me any more than I want a goddamn nanny.” Despite himself, he chuckled. He couldn’t help it. “Not bothering to deny it, are you?” she said dryly. He shook his head. “Nope. Don’t see the point in blowing smoke up your ass.” She sighed again. “I’m guessing you weren’t given any more choice than I was.” “Nope.” “Not a man of many words, are you?” He shrugged. “You pretty much said it all.” “Well, it’s obvious that we aren’t going to be best friends forever, so why don’t we sit here for a few minutes, you can have a beer or two, and then we can leave and pretend we played nice?” Connor smiled and, though it pained him, he found himself not quite hating the thought of spending a few more minutes with her. “I can play nice for a few minutes,” he conceded. She snorted. “You mean if we ignore each other.” His smile widened. He glanced over her again, noting the absent flash and glitz. “You look... different.” She cast him a baleful stare. “Just in case you think that the pink hair and flashy clothes are just part of the stage show and that underneath I’m this really nice, boring girl, let me dissuade you of that notion. I just didn’t want to get my ass kicked by coming into a place like this in anything but good-ole-boy gear.” Connor was fascinated by the snarl on her lips. It almost looked cute. Then he shook his head. She had as much personality as a pit bull and the pit bull was probably friendlier. She spread her hands and turned up her palms in a supreme “I don’t give a fuck” gesture. “What you see is what you get.” “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?” Anger flashed over her face and her eyes narrowed. He could get off on pissing her off. She rose to the bait so easily. “Just tell me what it is you’re supposed to do for me so we can get this over with,” she muttered. Connor studied her for a moment, her stiff posture, her obvious discomfort being here with him. She shouldn’t have come alone, especially not in light of the details he’d gotten from Phillip. “How bad has it been?” he asked bluntly. She looked up, her blue eyes flashing in surprise. Then she shrugged. “You’ve talked to Phillip and Barry, I’m sure.” “They haven’t been with you,” Connor pointed out. “A few visits on the road and phone calls from their office don’t count. Not with me. If I’m going to be responsible for your safety, then I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with.” For a moment it seemed her shell cracked, and he could see the lines of fatigue grooved around her eyes. “It’s not as bad as they make it out to be. I bring a lot of it on myself.” She lifted one small shoulder in a gesture of indifference. “I never wanted to surround myself so tightly with security that the public couldn’t get in. But now...” “It’s too much,” Connor guessed. “It’s exhausting. There have been a few threats.” “And Phillip wants to crack down, not make you so accessible.” Lyric nodded. “So tell me. How hard is my job going to be?” A small smile curved the corners of her mouth upward. “I won’t lie to you. I’m used to doing things my way.” “We don’t have to get along for this to work, but you do have to listen to what I tell you. Every word. And you have to follow directions.” She made a rude noise under her breath. “Just stay out of my way as much as possible.” “Deal.” She glanced sideways and appraised him with a seeking stare. “I think I like that you’re not kissing my ass.” “It’s not your ass I want to kiss.” The statement stunned both of them. Holy fuck, had he just said that? She blinked in surprise and then visibly retreated. The cocky, self-assured veneer was back, but for a moment, he’d seen something in her gaze that spoke to him. Longing. With a smirk, she leaned forward and planted her lips solidly on his. Heat scorched a path from his mouth straight to his dick and flayed open every nerve ending along the way. She licked over his lips as if challenging him to open to her, but before he could, she pulled away and slid off the bar stool. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She gave him a flip wave and strode out of the bar. CHAPTER 4

A fter an early morning jog, Connor showered and headed into Malone’s, hoping for some time to go over the file on Lyric Jones before everyone else showed up for this farce of a meeting. He should have known that Pop would already be in. When Connor let himself into the office, he heard voices from the conference room and frowned. Pop wasn’t the only one in way ahead of time. He went to the doorway to peer in and saw Phillip Armstrong having coffee with Pop. Pop looked up and motioned Connor in. “Glad you came in early, son. Phillip has something he wants to discuss with you before Lyric arrives.” Barely able to control his sigh, Connor pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat across from the two men. “I really appreciate you rethinking this,” Phillip said. “William tells me you’re well suited for this job, and the truth is, I need someone I can trust.” Connor shot Pop a glare. Well suited? What qualified him to be a babysitter slash bodyguard? His years in the army didn’t exactly prepare him to hover over a spoiled diva. Pop glared back and Connor refocused his attention on Phillip. “The danger to Lyric is more specific,” Phillip admitted. And Connor hadn’t thought this could get worse. “Care to explain what you mean by that?” “We’ve received what we believe to be credible threats. I pay a team a hell of a lot of money to discern whether a threat is merely someone mouthing off and wanting attention or whether it’s something we need to pursue. “Mostly it’s the former and we nip it in the bud. People aren’t terribly smart and the trail back to them is usually easy to follow.” “You’re getting threats you can’t trace back to an identifiable source.” Phillip nodded. “Exactly. What concerns me is that whoever is doing them is delivering them in person. It started five shows ago and he’s followed her from city to city.” Connor raised an eyebrow. “He?” “We assume it’s a he.” “An obsessed fan?” Phillip frowned. “I’m not sure. Typically when you have some fan who’s obsessed or fancies themselves in love with a star, there’s a courting stage and then anger because their feelings aren’t acknowledged or reciprocated. This... this is just plain weird and unsettling.” “Tell me.” “He always leaves a note. Where varies. Once, it was taped to the bus. Once, it was on her guitar case. Another time it was in her dressing room.” “No wonder you fired her security,” Connor muttered. “No one should be getting that close to her.” Phillip nodded. “One of the many reasons. I also couldn’t be certain it wasn’t one of them. I got rid of everyone I had the power to fire. Unfortunately, Pete and Repete, her two pet bodyguards, are hers. She hired them. But I want you to keep an eye on them. I don’t trust them.” “Lyric didn’t mention any of this when we met last night,” Connor said. “She mentioned that it had gotten harder to keep a distance from the fans and that she’d made a mistake in making herself too available.” Phillip shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced over at Pop. Pop grunted. “You may as well tell him. You should have told us all this from the beginning. Last thing he needs is to go in blind.” Jesus. What now? “Lyric doesn’t know,” Phillip said. “I’ve kept a tight lid on it.” “You want to say that again?” Connor asked. “She doesn’t know.” Connor shook his head in disbelief. Pop was right about one thing. People in show business had no common sense. “What could you possibly hope to gain by keeping this from her? She has to be careful, which means she has to be aware of the potential threat to her. She can’t do that if no one tells her that some creep is stalking her. I don’t understand why you haven’t canceled her show or at least her appearance at the music store. Are you just trying to get her killed?” Phillip’s lips pressed together. Connor hadn’t come out and said, You’re a dumbass, but his tone certainly implied it. Phillip didn’t look happy, but if the shoe fit... “Lyric is her own worst enemy at times,” Phillip said. “If she knew some weirdo was leaving notes for her, there’s no telling what she’d do. She’s not the type to be cautious and play it safe. And we can’t go around canceling events every time some whack job starts threatening her. If we did that, we’d be out of business.” “It seems to me, whether there’s a threat or not, she does whatever the hell she wants and damn the consequences.” “Yeah,” Phillip said wearily. “Something like that.” “So if she’s doing it either way, it makes no sense not to tell her what’s going on. At least then she might adopt a little self-preservation. Especially if you aren’t going to cancel a public appearance that most definitely puts her at risk.” Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Look, you don’t know Lyric—” Connor held up his hand. “You’re right. I don’t know her. I don’t have a desire to get to know her. But if I’m going to take this job, I’m not coddling her, which means I’m going to be straight with her from the start. She’s going to be briefed on everything. And then she’s going to do what I tell her, when I tell her, or I walk. It’s as simple as that.” “She’s never going to go for such heavy-handed treatment.” Connor shrugged. “It seems to me you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you. I’d love nothing more than for her to fire me.” “You work for me,” Phillip was quick to say. “She doesn’t have a choice.” “Then I guess she better get used to a heavy hand. She’s too used to having her ass kissed.” Phillip surprised Connor by laughing. “I suppose to you that’s the way it looks. When someone makes your label as much money as she has, you do whatever’s necessary to keep her happy. That’s business.” “It’s not my job to make her happy,” Connor said evenly. “It’s my job to keep her safe.” Phillip smiled broadly. “You know what, son? I think I’m sorry I’m going back to L.A. It might be worth being a fly on the wall for the next two weeks. I’m not sure Lyric’s ever met someone she couldn’t steamroll in two seconds flat.” “Well, now she has.” * * *

L yric flexed her hands as she navigated the busy streets back to her downtown hotel. Connor rode in silence next to her, his gaze fixed out of his window as if he found her company tedious. She frowned. She did not want him in her hotel room. He wouldn’t fit! He was too big. Too overbearing. Maybe she could inquire about an adjoining room and he’d be satisfied with having access. Then if she forgot and locked the door, she could say oops and he wouldn’t be invading her space. She hadn’t reserved a suite. Too much empty space with no people to fill it up and make her feel less lonely and... panicked. She’d taken a ridiculously small room and then filled it with all the stuff she’d brought with her because it had made her feel like she wasn’t alone. No way she wanted Connor Malone intruding. The mere idea had her breaking out in a cold sweat. She embraced a crowd. But being one-on-one? Especially with someone like Connor? God. She drove up to the front entrance and the valet opened her door for her. She dropped the keys into his hand and strode around to the revolving doors that led into the lobby. Connor was waiting and walked in practically attached to her hip. The man was tall and muscled and he took over her space to the point that with every inhale, his scent was permanently imprinted on her. He frowned when she resisted him herding her to the elevator and headed to the front desk instead. “What are you doing?” “Seeing if they have another room for you,” Lyric muttered. She put on her widest smile when the desk clerk asked if her if he could help. Connor put his hand over hers and squeezed. A warning. “There’ll be no separate room.” The clerk raised his eyebrows and glanced between Connor and Lyric with undisguised interest. Lyric tried to wrest her hand from his grip but he tightened his fingers over hers. “There isn’t room for you,” she hissed. “Not even on the floor! I have a single. It’s barely a shoe box.” “Since you’re only spending tonight here, we can deal.” “But my reservations are for two weeks!” Connor turned to the clerk and smiled. “She’s had a change in itinerary. We’ll be checking out in the morning.” Before she could utter another word, Connor took her elbow and propelled her toward the elevator. She had to hoof it to keep up with his pace, and the heels she wore weren’t conducive to a footrace. It was hard to look sexy and elegant when she was worried about tripping over her own feet. “Damn it, Malone,” she huffed when the elevator doors closed. “I don’t care what you were hired to do. You aren’t staying in my room.” “The name is Connor. Use it. And get over it. We’re going to be up close and personal for the next two weeks. My advice is to quit bitching and resign yourself to the inevitable.” She closed her eyes and bumped her head against the back of the elevator. She knew she sounded petulant and unreasonable, but the idea of him being in her personal space was seriously freaking her out. Her breath huffed out in jerky little spurts until her vision blurred and she grew light-headed. She was dimly aware of Connor’s frown and a muttered curse, but then, that shouldn’t surprise her. It seemed it was all he did around her. The elevator doors opened but that didn’t relieve the tightness in her chest. She stood helpless against the wall, unable to make her legs cooperate. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and the world seemed to get smaller and dimmer with each passing second. Connor yanked her from the elevator and she found herself plopped onto one of the leather couches in the small sitting area on her floor. “Breathe, Lyric. Look at me.” When she didn’t immediately do as he’d demanded, he coaxed her chin upward with gentle fingers. “Look at me,” he said again. “That’s it. Focus. Now breathe with me. Just like this.” She watched as he inhaled deeply and then exhaled in one smooth motion. “Think about what you’re doing. Watch me. Do what I do. I won’t let anything hurt you. You can trust me.” If she could manage the breath, she’d laugh. Trust him? He had no idea what he was asking. Trust was as foreign to her as the things most people took for granted. Love. Friendship. Companionship. His fingers stroked soothingly over her cheek and it was all she could do not to lean into his touch and rub like a cat. It shocked her how good it felt to be comforted, to be touched by someone who didn’t want something from her she wasn’t willing to give. She sighed and closed her eyes as some of the awful pressure in her chest eased. She could literally feel her lungs open up and shudder with relief as fresh air rushed in. Her hands shook and her knees were so wobbly she’d never make it down the hall to her room. How humiliating to fall apart all because she was faced with the prospect of sharing her space with Connor Malone. Wouldn’t the tabloids have a field day with this? Superstar suffers panic attack and passes out in hotel elevator. “Where’s your room key?” Connor asked quietly. Her fingers trembled so much she nearly dumped her clutch on her feet. He took the purse, and, after a moment of digging, he flashed the room card. He handed her back the bag. “We need to get you to your room. Can you make it if I help you?” She nodded, furious with herself for allowing this to happen. Embarrassed. Gutted for making such an idiot of herself. Gritting her teeth, she clutched at his arm as she rose from the couch. “What room number?” “All the way to the end,” she whispered. “Last one on the left.” “Okay, take it nice and slow. Hold on to my arm and don’t get in a hurry.” With each step, she regained more of her strength and some of the panic abated. By the time they reached her room, her knees had stopped shaking. Connor slid the card into the slot and opened her door. A rush of cool air blasted her in the face and gave her a much-needed shock. “Christ, it’s like a meat locker in here,” Connor said as he ushered her inside. “I like sleeping in the cold,” she mumbled. “With the covers up to my ears.” Connor sat her on the edge of the bed. “Do you have anything to drink in here?” “There’s water in the fridge.” “You need something a little stronger than water.” “I don’t drink,” she said defensively. “No matter what you might read about me.” “I wasn’t suggesting alcohol,” he said dryly. “If anyone will be drinking, it’ll be me. I was thinking more along the lines of something with caffeine in it for you.” “Caffeine makes me jittery and I don’t sleep well.” He went over to the fridge and returned with a bottle of cold water. He opened it and shoved it toward her. “Drink.” She sipped at the refreshing liquid and took in several steadying breaths. “I’m fine now. Really. I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot for losing it like that.” He sat beside her on the bed and was silent for a long moment. He seemed to be studying her—or the issue—she wasn’t sure which. The idea of him analyzing her made her twitch. Enough shrinks had done that to last her a lifetime. “Why did you lose it, Lyric?” She frowned. She hadn’t expected him to be so... blunt. Most people danced around her. The few times she’d ever had a panic attack in front of someone else, they’d pretended it didn’t happen, and she was more than happy to do the same. He cocked his head sideways, and she could feel his gaze boring into her. Lifting and peeling back layers that she was helpless to defend against. “Does my being in your room scare you that badly?” he asked softly. Her nostrils flared and it was on the tip of her tongue to deny that anything scared her. But that would be pretty stupid, and Connor Malone wasn’t stupid. “I’ll deal,” she said. “I won’t like it. I doubt you’ll like it. But I get it. My record label thinks I’m in danger and they hired you to babysit me. I’m not the idiot you think I am. I have no desire to die at the hands of some lunatic. Or be kidnapped and forced to live in a basement somewhere as a sex slave.” Connor let out a chuckle. “You have a vivid imagination. That’s good. The more hideous a fate you can imagine if this guy gets his hands on you, the easier you’ll make my job because you’ll stick like glue to me.” She turned so that their gazes met. “I thought you were supposed to stick to me like glue.” “That too. If we stick to each other, then we won’t have to worry, now, will we?” Coming from him, in his sexier-than-sin voice, the innocent words sounded like seduction. She’d never been wooed and seduced in her life and damn if he didn’t make her want to be. She’d be willing to bet he was one of those rare males who took his time with his lover. Coaxing, pleasuring. Unselfish. She’d bet money he’d give a woman complete and total satisfaction. Chill bumps danced down her arms, raising the tiny hairs on her skin. She could feel the heat radiating off him and it made her want to burrow against his broad chest and absorb him. What would it be like to lie in his arms? To have him hold her. Nothing else. Just... be. It was a ridiculous fantasy given the fact she didn’t want to be that close to anyone. The only thing worse than being alone was being one-on-one. Allowing someone to see inside her. To see the truth. Connor stood, shaking her from her reverie. “You were right about this room. It’s barely bigger than a closet. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be caught dead in anything smaller than a suite. You have so much stuff stacked up in here that you can barely take a piss in the toilet.” She smiled faintly. “I was supposed to be here for two weeks. I need my stuff. I didn’t bring my tour bus and I don’t have anywhere else to put everything. I gave my crew time off. I’m doing the show with a skeleton band. It’s just a few songs. The rodeo isn’t a full concert and they do the stage.” “It’s going to be a bitch to move all this stuff,” Connor muttered. She looked up sharply. “Why are we moving it? Why did you tell the clerk I was checking out tomorrow?” “Because you are.” She raised her hands in exasperation. “But why? Where am I going?” “Someplace safe. No one but Phillip will know and the only reason he will is because he’s making the arrangements.” She frowned. “But that’s ridiculous. I can’t just fall off the face of the earth. I have things to do.” He leaned against a stack of luggage and eyed her. “Like?” “I don’t know. Yet. But I’ll need Trent and R.J. You’ll need them too. They’ve been my personal bodyguards since I began touring.” “Bodyguards or fuck-buddies?” She flushed and looked away, and then it infuriated her that she allowed him to shame her. “If they’re fucking me, then someone else can hardly hurt me,” she taunted. “If they’re fucking you, they aren’t doing their job,” he said through tight lips. “Their first and only priority is your safety. If they’re focused on you and the next time they can get in your pants, they aren’t watching what’s going on around them.” She didn’t want to acknowledge that he had a point. Trent and R.J. weren’t around for their security skills. She didn’t even know if they had any prior experience before coming to work for her. They were glorified male prostitutes and the truth of it hit her like a punch to the face. She paid them. They slept with her—or at least they used to. She wasn’t about to admit to Connor that she hadn’t had sex with them for the last few shows because it would seem too much like she wanted his approval. Oh, it wasn’t as if she’d hired them for the purpose of sex, but it had dissolved into that and nothing more, so really what were they if not prostitutes? Nausea swirled in her stomach. When had her life become such a sad mess? When had she become so desperate not to be alone that she paid people to surround her? And then anyone who got too close was quickly shoved as far away from her as possible. “I can’t fire them. They have a contract,” she said in a low voice. “They can have their duties reassigned,” Connor said with a shrug. “I don’t give a shit whether you pay them or not. But they aren’t going to be trusted with your safety.” She closed her eyes, aware of the headache that was intensifying rapidly. She was tired. She hadn’t lied when she’d said she hadn’t slept the night before, and it wasn’t for the reason she’d led Connor to believe. She’d lain awake in this very room, like she did so many other nights, afraid of monsters from her past, afraid to turn out the lights because she was alone. Giving her crew vacation time had been a necessity. They were as burned out as she was. But right now, she’d sell her soul to have them with her, surrounding her, to lose herself in the noise and chaos of so many people. But no, she’d sworn to herself that the next two weeks were going to be a test of her mettle. She was going to step out and face her fears. Even if it killed her. Only now, if Connor was telling her the truth, someone might do the job for her. “I’m really just supposed to step back and let you take over.” It wasn’t a question and she didn’t phrase it as such. It was more of a resigned statement that she already knew the answer to. “That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” he said. He didn’t even attempt to soothe her and offer platitudes. But then, that would have shocked her, and strangely, it would have disappointed her. She swept out her hand to the piles of luggage and boxes. “Where do you propose to sleep tonight?” He studied her for a long moment. “That depends. If it won’t frighten you, we can sleep on the bed. You under the covers. Me on top of the covers. We can put pillows between us. If that idea scares you, I’ll make do on the floor.” She managed a smile although her heart started thudding painfully as adrenaline spiked through her veins. “I thought you didn’t do floors.” “For you I’ll make an exception.” She cocked her head. “You don’t worry about boundaries much, do you? I mean, most people would never dare to push like you have. I can’t decide if you’re really stupid or just plain ballsy.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter as long as I do my job.” She glanced at the bed, judging how much of it Connor would take up. It was a king bed stuffed into a really small room and Connor was a really big man. He’d need at least half the bed, and then the pillows would take up a fourth, which left her with the remaining fourth. Or she could just make him sleep on the floor. All she had to do was say the word, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him she was afraid. “You can sleep on the bed,” she said before she changed her mind. “Lyric.” She looked back up at him and saw something other than scorn or irritation in his eyes. “I won’t hurt you.” She nodded and a hundred butterflies were released into her belly. He surveyed the room again with a grimace. “I had planned to hole up in your room for the afternoon, but I think we’ll both go crazy if we have to spend too much time here. It’s probably not your speed, but I thought I’d take you over to see some friends. I don’t want you out in public. You’re going to keep an extremely low profile for the next little while.” “Not my speed?” she murmured. He shrugged. “We get together, have some beer and shoot the shit. You met them all today—or most of them.” It actually sounded fun and she felt a twist of jealousy that he had friends—good friends—that he kicked back with. “I’ll go.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to behave. Micah, Gray and Nathan are all very attached. To women I care a lot about. I don’t want you upsetting them.” She swallowed the hurt and bit back a scathing remark. Every time she thought Connor might be different, he said something to make her remember that to him she was a spoiled, bratty diva who went through men like most people went through toilet paper. She was a job. A job that he obviously didn’t want but for whatever reason had agreed to. She needed to remind herself of that before she did something stupid like care what he thought about her. CHAPTER 6